


He Made It Easy

by ezrastarkiller



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Billy Hargrove Has a Crush on Steve Harrington, Billy Hargrove Needs a Hug, Bottom Billy Hargrove, Canon-Typical Violence, Come Eating, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Smut, Healing and Recovery, Idiots in Love, M/M, Non-Sexual Intimacy, Overstimulation, Porn with Feelings, Post-Canon Fix-It, Post-Season/Series 03, Steve Harrington Gives Good Hugs, Tender Sex, Touch-Starved, cuz I mean... it's me, dealing with physical and psychological trauma, hint hint, very light though
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-12
Updated: 2021-02-12
Packaged: 2021-03-12 08:01:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,612
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29381751
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ezrastarkiller/pseuds/ezrastarkiller
Summary: But he has Steve now, and he’d almost died but he didn’t, and he never thought he’d be intimate with someone again, believed he’d live the rest of his life never letting another person touch or see his body but, lo and behold, Steve Harrington. Stealthy Steve fucking Harrington.
Relationships: Billy Hargrove/Steve Harrington
Comments: 6
Kudos: 126
Collections: Harringrove Week of Love





	He Made It Easy

The thing is, Steve is super hot. Billy is well aware of his boyfriend’s sexiness.

But it’s unfair, because he’s  _ relentlessly  _ sexy. For example: his post-orgasm smile. After he’s fucked Billy into their mattress like some wild animal, groaning and sweat-slick and glowing, he’ll get this utterly stupid look on his face, grinning all wide and goofy as shit. It makes Billy’s heart stutter every single fucking time, because Steve’s eyes get even bigger, somehow, and warmer and his smile is so relaxed and intimate and  _ hot _ . God, the bridge of Steve’s nose could probably get him hard these days. When they’re rooting around in the fridge for a midnight snack, illuminated by the single bulb haloing a carton of milk, Steve will make a lame joke and chuckle at himself and Billy will pretty much immediately sink to his knees at the sound. It’s ridiculous. He likes Steve’s  _ chest hair, _ for crying out loud. The goddamn swell of Steve’s freckled shoulders gets Billy going! On some nights, if they both really try, Billy can come once more from the way Steve will kiss his ankle, every time, after fucking him with his tongue. One soft peck of Steve’s lips to such an innocuous part of Billy’s body. Like he’s proud of his work; the period at the end of a sentence. And it makes Billy come totally apart.

And it’s not even that. Well, it’s all that but it’s even more, too. It’s the casual affection Steve wraps him in, even before they made it official. Before they were friends, really.

After July, Billy’s life took on an entirely different tone. It had to. He’d almost died. To this day he’s certain he was gone if only for a moment there, but none of that matters now, because he survived.

He survived, but not before having his mind hijacked by a vile creature from the next realm over. Not before it infected and nearly eviscerated his body, too. And not before he had killed people, regardless of the fact that he wasn’t in control then.

But he survived, and that had to mean something now. His body is littered with scars. The mere thought of being in a hospital makes him want to vomit. Sometimes, he has to wonder if all his thoughts are entirely his own. He doesn’t always trust his hands. Never did.

So, Billy returned to life with a new sense of purpose. In a way, he returned to who he was as a child – wide-eyed and open like a book. It wasn’t that he had changed after the “fire” at Starcourt; he didn’t feel any different, despite how ridiculous that seems. It just felt as though he were finally awake.

When he became conscious enough to string coherent thoughts together, he had to consider how long and arduous the road to recovery was sure to be. Patience had never come easily to Billy, but part of his growing lust for life included abandoning the attitudes he’d adopted from Neil throughout his life. Those attitudes were what kept him asleep at the wheel for most of his life, after all.

So he’d learn how to be patient. But the loneliness was something he was no stranger to.

Given the circumstances surrounding the accident at Starcourt Mall, Billy was being kept in some kind of ultra-secure room tucked away from the noise of the hospital and was not  _ technically _ allowed visitors – not that Billy  _ expected _ many visitors, anyway. There was Max almost every day, and sometimes she’d bring one or two of her nerd friends. El and her dad had visited quite a few times, and Joyce Byers would often come by with food that Billy did not yet have the stomach to eat, but the gesture still made him light up in a way that reminded him, distantly, of how his mom made him feel safe and cared for as a child. Susan showed up twice during Billy’s recovery at the hospital, and Billy quickly learned why from Max: she and Neil had gotten into a heated argument which ultimately led to Neil tearing away in his pickup. He hasn’t come back. Billy was glad for it. The less evil in Hawkins, the better.

But that shortened his list of “allowed” visitors, regardless of the fact that Susan was never very close to him and that he’d rather get possessed another time than ever see his father again. He tried not to dwell on all that, though, because it would eventually lead to him realizing that he didn’t  _ have _ anyone else that could visit, anyway.

Still, he’d get overwhelmed with it. Whenever the loneliness got to be too much, he would let himself cry quietly at night, between check-ins with the nurse. He tried to avoid asking himself questions like,  _ ‘Was my life really worth saving?’ _ because that line of thought had the potential to drag him into a pit he wasn’t sure he’d be able to claw himself out of.

One night, a little over two months after the incidents at Starcourt Mall, Billy is blinking awake in his hospital bed. He’s distantly aware of the nurse saying his name, speaking in a soft voice about a  _ visitor _ as the door creaks open wider to let the lights from the hallway spill into his room.

His drug-addled brain immediately assumes it’s Max, so when he sits up straight and drags his heavy eyes from the foot of his bed to the guest at his bedside, he freezes when he sees that it’s not his sister. It’s Steve Harrington. And he looks… very much like Steve Harrington.

Billy blinks slowly at Steve, letting his eyes adjust and focus on the boy-shape that is closing the door quietly behind the departing nurse. He glances at the clock on the wall and squints:  _ it’s 8:03 P.M. _ It’s definitely past visiting hours, even his nonexistent visiting hours, and Billy does wonder if he’s having another wild fever dream but then Steve speaks and Billy feels sober for one brief, startling moment.

“Uh…” Steve sounds eloquently, and only then is Billy aware of the tape Steve’s turning over in his hands, encased in a Family Video sleeve. Steve’s mouth opens and closes wordlessly a few times until he gathers himself and looks straight at Billy, finding what he wants to say. “I meant to come sooner, but. I didn’t have an excuse, until this became available to rent.” He waves the movie so Billy can read the title, and he sees that it’s  _ Day of the Dead. _ “I heard that you were stoked to see it.”

Immediately, Billy is embarrassed. Almost to the point of wishing he  _ did _ die. And it’s not because Steve is seeing him this way – rail-thin and wounded, exhausted, with a million different machines hooked up to his withering body and a stupid fucking oxygen mask over his face and tubes all down his throat so he can’t even speak. It’s not even all  _ that _ that he’s humiliated over.

It’s everything before, everything that had happened before the summer. Everything he did to Steve, who he wanted so badly it drove him insane. It was like Billy was just wired to destroy the things that mattered to him, or the things that could potentially matter.

Of course, he’s unable to say any of this and wouldn’t even if circumstances were different. So he just nods, once, and looks everywhere but at Steve.

“Cool,” Steve breathes and Billy can hear that he’s relieved. “So, I’ll just go see if…”

Steve’s voice fades so Billy decides to be brave and look at him, but Steve’s slipping out into the bright hallway, leaving the door ajar behind him. Billy only has a moment to be alone and confused before Steve is returning, wheeling in an old clunker of a TV. Steve meets his eye before Billy can look away.

“One day, you’ll have to hear about the strings I pulled to swing this,” Steve tells him and winks.

After Steve sets the TV up and pops the tape into the VCR, he sits in the brown-cushioned chair beside Billy’s bed. Its wooden legs squeak across the floor as Steve scoots closer to Billy and folds his arms beside his pillow, and just like that Steve is murmuring to him underneath the previews about the movie he’s apparently already seen and are both about to watch as if they’re best friends, as if they’ve always done this. The glow of the TV at the foot of his bed is throwing an ethereal light across Steve’s mole-dotted face and Billy cannot believe the direction his life is going in, but he’s hungry to keep living it. Find out where it takes him.

Billy swears his heart grew too big for his body that day.

//

They keep up a routine and do, actually, and quite naturally, become friends. Three weeks after his first visit, Steve is back at Billy’s bedside. They’re watching cartoons. It’s a Saturday morning, the first one Steve’s had off from work in months, Billy’s told, and even though Billy can speak now, his voice is nothing more than a whisper. So he doesn’t bother saying to Steve in a scratchy, hoarse tone,  _ “Sorry I kicked your ass. Also, why and how are you so you?” _

Besides, he didn’t know whether  _ I’m sorry _ or  _ thank you _ would come out first when he did eventually speak to Steve.

Steve’s visit is wholly uneventful right up until the very end, just as Billy’s preparing for his appointment with his physical therapist. He’s able to sit up at the edge of his bed all on his own with minimal struggling, and he’s glad for the way Steve fills the moment with his voice. He’s glad when his socked feet touch the cold floor. Even this small accomplishment is exhilarating to him.

So he’s a little caught off guard when Steve stands and takes the half step between his chair and Billy’s seat on the bed and leans down a little and hugs him. Hugs him once. One tight, warm squeeze with both of his arms embracing him and Billy realizes, dumbstruck, that it’s the first time since his mom that he’s been touched by someone he loves.

And he does know that he loves Steve, even though Steve will never know or, much less, reciprocate that feeling. Still. He can do nothing but submit to Steve’s kindness and hug him back.

//

It takes Billy months to speak to Steve.

On Christmas Eve, not long after Max left, Billy is pleased but not surprised to see Steve poke his head into his room, looking like a goofball as he looks side to side with a frown on his face. Billy chuckles at him, shaking his head while Steve wheels in the TV yet again, this time carrying multiple VHS tapes.

“I thought you’d appreciate some of these,” Steve tells him, fanning the movies out for Billy to see. “Christmas classics.”

Billy smiles up at Steve, perhaps too genuinely. He likely looks exactly as lovesick as he feels. So he doesn’t think twice before he says in a raspy voice, “Merry Christmas, Steve.”

Steve’s eyes go comically wide. “I–you,” Steve stutters, truly amazed, and then ducks his head a little. He speaks quietly. “How? How long have you been able to talk?”

Billy shrugs one shoulder and feels stupid. “A while.”

“Huh,” Steve breathes and straightens up as he considers Billy’s words. Instead of asking why Billy is choosing to speak to him  _ now, _ Steve says, “So you’ve just been letting me blabber on and on about whatever the hell I want? Isn’t that, like, kinda like torture?”

Billy laughs at that, hard. Hard enough that his ribs ache and he has to stop himself from laughing more.

“Sorry,” Steve apologizes when he sees the state he’s unwittingly put Billy in – clutching at his ribs and cringing in pain.

“No,” Billy is quick to say through gritted teeth, focusing on breathing evenly. “No, you’re fine.”

“Are you okay?” Steve asks him after a moment, and Billy nods. “Good.” Steve lays the tapes out across Billy’s lap. “Pick one. I mean, we’re gonna watch them all, obviously, but the order is up to you.”

He picks  _ It’s a Wonderful Life _ mostly because it’s what’s closest to him, but also because his mom used to insist it was, objectively, the best Christmas film ever. Billy’s never seen it.

Steve nods in approval and makes quick work of popping the tape in and shutting the lights off. He clears the rest of the movies off Billy’s bed before inviting himself into it with a, “Scoot over. You’re hogging all the blankets.”

Billy’s glad Steve can’t hear the rabbiting of his heart in his chest. His lithe body is pressed right up against Billy’s own and he can feel himself burning up inside. He tries to focus on the film, but after only fifteen minutes he asks Steve, “How have you managed to get in here?”

“Well, you didn’t put up much of a fight.”

“No–” Billy smiles at Steve’s wide-eyed, goofy expression. His face is so close. “Not  _ the bed. _ I mean how have you managed getting into my room so late? ‘M not even supposed to see visitors.”

“Wouldn’t you like to know,” Steve drones like it’s an accusation, narrowing his eyes at Billy. “I’m just stealthy like that, man.”

“Mm,” Billy hums, making a face to rile Steve. “Sure you are…”

“I am!” Steve insists.

“Okay, fine. Keep your secrets.”

“I  _ will. _ Now,” Steve puts two cool fingers against Billy’s lips. Billy holds his breath. “Shush. As much as I missed hearing your headache-inducing voice, this movie’s a classic and you gotta immerse yourself.”

Steve takes his hand back, crossing his arms and turning his face back to the screen. He glances sidelong at Billy, who is still looking at him in wonder, and winks, the corner of his mouth quirked up in a grin.

Billy just nods belatedly and watches the movie, hyper aware of each point where their bodies are touching. He thinks, if this were another life, he would be turning Steve’s face into his.

Steve falls asleep in exactly one hour and twelve minutes. His head lolls to the side and rests against Billy’s arm and Billy has to resist the weird urge to lean over and smell his hair or something. He stays completely still until the movie ends. Steve wakes up to see the credits rolling.

Billy can tell that he’s surprised, or maybe embarrassed, to find his face pressed into Billy’s shoulder. He jolts slightly, but doesn’t move away from Billy.

“Guess I didn’t immerse myself enough,” Steve mumbles quietly. Billy is relieved that Steve is deciding not to make a big deal out of finding himself pressed against his almost-sort-of new friend. “What did I miss?”

“Honestly? Couldn’t tell ya.”

“Huh,” Steve nods, and then they both turn to each other slowly, each of them pulling a face.

They laugh tiredly and when it wears off, Steve is still looking at Billy with a strange look on his face. He’s smiling a little.

He looks at Billy long enough for Billy to feel sheepish. “What?”

Steve shakes his head, still smiling at him. “Nothing. Just–” he draws his eyebrows together for a second, then looks at Billy seriously. “I should let you rest. It’s late.”

And, yeah. Billy knows he’s right. He’s tired, will probably always be tired every day for the rest of his days, but. He doesn’t want Steve to leave. “Okay,” he says instead of the truth.

Steve sits up and so Billy does, too, listening to him ramble on his way out about the “stuffy-ass” holiday party his parents are hosting for his father’s work. Before he gets out of the bed he looks at Billy, clearly wanting to say something, but he hesitates.

Then he asks, gesturing between himself and Billy, “Are you okay with it? I mean, when I… touch you, and stuff. Like, is that okay? I’ll stop doing it if it’s not.”

Billy is silent for a long time. He has no idea how to answer Steve, but realizes after much rumination that he has to respond with something, anything at all. “It’s okay. I’d tell you if it wasn’t.” Not a lie, and not the whole truth. Safely somewhere in between.

“Are you sure?” Steve smiles kindly at him and then his gaze drops to the foot of the bed. “It seemed like you had to think about it.”

“I’m okay with it,” Billy tells him again, his tone firmer this time. He’s never been more sure about something.

Steve turns toward him again and blinks, chewing on his lower lip. Then, he lunges toward Billy and presses him into a hug.

When he pulls away from their embrace – which is all too soon, in Billy’s mind – he mumbles, “I’m glad you’re alive, Billy.”

Billy doesn’t say anything for fear of letting the entire ugly truth spill out.

Steve wishes him, “Merry Christmas,” and then he’s gone. Sure to come again, Billy knows.

_ Me too,  _ he thinks to himself, hours after the spot on his bed where Steve was lying grows cold.

//

Because he is wholly determined to, Billy is able to walk again after endless sessions with multiple physical therapists. He spent arduous weeks simply trying to regain any strength in his legs and it all pays off when he nearly gives Steve a heart attack as he gets right up out of his hospital bed, surprising him. Steve stands in the doorway, shocked into silence as Billy stands on shaky legs and holds his hands out, presenting himself. He’s been told to take it slow, but he’s gotta show off a little.

Steve gets so excited that he  _ lifts _ Billy and spins him around, hollering until he thinks better of jostling Billy around after just regaining the ability to walk and carefully releases him back onto his feet. Billy doesn’t care whether Steve is gentle with him, though. He’s elated by his reaction.

They walk to the cafeteria together, but they’re not ten paces away from Billy’s room when Steve asks, “Are you sure we should be doing this? Will you get in trouble?” He whispers quickly, chuckling under his breath as he just nods to a nurse passing by.

“Don’t know. Didn’t ask.” He flashes Steve a charming smile and Steve shakes his head at him. For a moment, the hospital, his wounds, all of it just fades away.

Then he’s brought right back as his right knee trembles slightly under his weight. Steve offers him his arm wordlessly and Billy almost says, “I’m fine,” but he accepts the help. He knows he needs it. Bad.

The cafeteria is deserted when they reach it, and Steve leads them to a table in the corner. Steve pulls a seat out for him, which makes both of his knees tremble but for a different reason this time, and then sits across from Billy.

Steve starts one of his bewildering stories about the kinds of people he deals with at Family Video and Billy listens intently, watching the way Steve mindlessly plays with the paper napkins in front of them. Just when Billy thinks he can’t get any more endearing, Steve starts folding them into tiny origami animals and Billy lets out a small huff of laughter when he notices. Steve looks up at him in surprise.

“Must be nice to get a little change of scenery, right?” Steve asks conversationally, now ripping tiny bits off his half-finished piece of art.

“The view is still the same,” Billy glances up from Steve’s hands to his face, “so, it’s good. Will you show me how to do that?” Billy jerks his chin toward the half-winged creature in Steve’s grasp.

Steve holds it up. “This?”

Billy nods.

“Sure.” Steve appears a little stupefied at Billy’s request but he scrapes his chair over to sit next to him regardless. “It’s really easy,” he tells Billy, not thinking twice about taking Billy’s shaking, scarred hands to fold the paper napkin, explaining as he guides Billy’s fingers along the creases.

Billy doesn’t absorb a single word and soon, Steve’s not even showing Billy what to do anymore. He’s just holding his hand, quite frankly. He runs his thumb over Billy’s upturned palm, and Billy lets him. He dares to sneak a glance at Steve, finding that he’s already looking back at him. Smiling all genuine and beautiful like he does. Billy could cry, but won’t.

And stuff like that happened all the time afterward; Steve touched him as if they had always been close, he touched him innocently and simply because he wanted to. Handshakes, high fives, hugs, ruffling his hair, poking his side when he wanted to be annoying, holding his hand more times than what can be considered “normal,” all of it. Occasionally, Billy would even initiate physical contact between them.

The casual intimacy that blossoms between them is intoxicating to Billy, though he finds himself tossing and turning at night sometimes, wondering if Steve is this close with all of his guy friends. He worries himself into a frenzy some nights, and it doesn’t help that his libido eventually returns to him with overwhelming force.

And yet, he knows, even Steve’s presence alone is enough for him. It’s replenishing, as stupid as it might sound. Being around Steve is good for him.

It’s Valentine’s Day when Billy is at last released and put under Chief Hopper’s protection. Steve knew what the plans for his release were – they had spoken about it at length – but Billy didn’t tell him exactly  _ when _ he’d be getting out of the hospital.

So, when he strolls into the Family Video and sees pink and red paper hearts sprawling over the front desk and the gaudy display of romance movies near the center of the store, he feels a little bit like he’s floating.

Leaning against the desk on his elbows, Steve looks up at him from a magazine. He stares in silence. Billy laughs at him.

“You look like you just saw a ghost, amigo,” Billy teases him and is pleased by how natural it feels. How confident he is, even if it’s just for this moment. He feels like  _ himself _ in his leather jacket and blue jeans.

Steve flips the magazine closed. “You son of a  _ bitch,” _ he growls with absolutely no bite to it. Steve can’t suppress the smile that’s turning the corners of his mouth up. Billy loves him for it.

They smile dopily at one another until the bell above the door rings, announcing a customer. Billy turns his body away from the door, shielding himself from view. Technically, he is not supposed to be out and about seeing as the town was under the impression that he had died in the accident at Starcourt. But he had to see Steve, and Family Video was closing soon anyway. Then, he could be alone with Steve.

Steve brushes by him to help the elderly woman find some obscure historical drama. Billy wanders into the sci-fi section, waiting. He doesn’t have to do so for long as he hears the bell ringing once again, and then the sound of Steve’s footsteps on the floor as he approaches him from around the corner.

“Holy shit,” Steve breathes in disbelief, his hands on his hips. Billy wants to take him by his stupid green vest and kiss him till their lips are sore. “I had no idea you’d be home so soon. Do you have somewhere to stay? How did you get the chief to let you come out here tonight?”

Billy kind of wants to press him about what he means by  _ home, _ but he says instead, “The chief has got a place for me to stay. And as for how I got here, well… that’s classified information.”

_ “Billy.” _

He pats Steve’s shoulder and laughs at his disapproving face. “What? You want me to leave, then?”

“Obviously not,” Steve murmurs and crosses his arms. He fixes Billy with a playful look. “You know, we close in, like, ten minutes. I should be kicking you out.”

“You won’t.”

“No, I won’t.” Steve takes a step closer to Billy. “I don’t have any plans tonight. Maybe, I don’t know. Since we’re both single and it’s Valentine’s Day we can, like, celebrate or something? Together.” Steve is quick to add on, “Unless you have a date or whatever. That’s cool, too. We can hang out another time.”

To Billy’s unbelieving ears, it sounds like Steve is dancing around what he truly wants to say. Kind of like how Billy told him he was okay with being touched by Steve, when he could have admitted that he needed Steve to put his hands on him more often. Not the whole truth, but not a lie, either.

Well. Billy’s heart sort of swells in his chest, and he decides he’s done avoiding the feelings in life that overwhelm him from time to time. He croaks out,  _ “You _ are my plans for tonight, Steve.”

“Oh,” Steve nods slowly, mouth parted. “Cool. Good.”

“Cool,” Billy agrees dumbly. They’re silent for a minute until Billy blurts, “What do you mean,  _ since we’re both single, _ though?”

Steve searches his face and Billy feels bad about putting him on the spot like that. That is, until Steve answers him. “It’s like–okay, I  _ know _ it’s kind of a dumb holiday and it’s so commercialized and shit, but,” Steve throws his hands up. “I don’t know, man. I just really like you. A lot. And I don’t wanna fuck it up, so just forget I said all that stuff.”

Billy processes Steve’s words. “So, because we’re both single and since you like me a lot and it’s Valentine’s Day, we should… be together tonight. That’s what you’re saying?”

Steve chews on his bottom lip. “Yeah.”

Billy nods, considering this. “Got it.” His eyes slide over to Steve’s own. Then he grabs his pretty, pouting face and pulls him in. Billy kisses him.

And then once he’s kissing him, he knows no one will be able to stop him. Steve reciprocates the kiss, wraps his arms around Billy and firmly presses him up against the wall behind him. Billy is glad to not be treated like glass in this moment.

//

Months later, when they have sex for the first time – penetrative sex, that is – Steve stretches himself out across Billy’s back, his full weight pinning Billy to the bed as he eases inside of him. Billy groans from deep in his throat; Steve took his time to finger him open, teasing at his prostate with skilled digits and stroking Billy’s weepy cock until he was moaning his name in a high-pitched tone. He touched Billy like that until he was totally pliant and eager to get Steve inside of him. Billy’s ass was tight around Steve’s erection, forcing him to bite back a groan and resist pushing into Billy too fast for the both of them. Still, Billy’s body showed little resistance. He pushed back against Steve’s hips and took him deeper with a satisfied moan. Steve was breathless as he moved on top of him.

And, afterwards, Billy feels strange. He thought it’d be different. Of course, the sex itself was incredible;  _ that  _ was better than anything Billy could and had fantasized about. And even when Steve throws an arm over his waist and dozes off, it’s good. But there’s a lot left unsaid, at least on Billy’s part. Billy was choking on all the words he desperately wanted to say and Steve wasn’t even awake to help him spit them out.

He knew it was all on him though, or at least that he was partly to blame for why he didn’t feel how he thought he’d feel afterward. He wanted to admit to Steve that he loved him, that he was sorry, to thank him for being unfathomably  _ good, _ he wanted to say so much, to take all this weight off his chest. He wanted to  _ let _ himself be loved, which is a feeling he used to bury deep inside until it was little more than a dull ache in his chest.

But he has Steve now, and he’d almost died but he didn’t, and he never thought he’d be intimate with someone again, believed he’d live the rest of his life never letting another person touch or see his body but, lo and behold, Steve Harrington. Stealthy Steve fucking Harrington.

He refuses to scare Steve away with how intensely he cares for him. This thing just started and Billy wasn’t going to risk it.

But he recalls how good it felt to give into Steve completely. To surrender to the feeling of being cared for, to maybe believe that he was deserving of all the soft caresses Steve supplied him with.

Steve’s fingers squeeze Billy’s in his sleep, pulling him back to the present moment. He squeezes back gently and listens to the soft puffs of air Steve breathes against his back.

//

Weeks later, Steve is entwining their hands while they’re fucking, showering Billy with praises and affection like, “You’re always so good,” and, “I’m so lucky you’re mine, Billy,” and, “I love you so much.” And he’s rolling his hips easily, burying his cock inside of Billy at an unbearably tender pace. Steve’s cock is pressing incessantly at Billy’s prostate with every movement, making his toes curl as he lets out sweet little whimpers and squeezes his eyes shut.

They kiss messily — it’s mostly their tongues sliding together in an uncoordinated fit of passion. Billy gasps when Steve pulls out and snaps his hips forward again, fucking into his ass hard and quick.

“Steve,” he groans, so very close to coming now. And Steve knows. He wraps his free hand around Billy’s leaking cock, making Billy hiss and attempt to chase both the light pressure of Steve’s fingers wrapped around him, as well as the overwhelming pleasure of having Steve fill his ass.

He’s gone, panting wildly until Steve presses a kiss to his cheek, grips his cock gently and murmurs against his skin, “C’mon, baby. I wanna watch you come while I’m inside you.” And then he pulls fully out before fucking back into Billy with absolutely no sense of urgency.

It’s not only the perfect thrusts of Steve’s hips deeper and deeper inside of him that makes him come. No. What pushes him over the edge is the slide of Steve’s tongue into his mouth when he kisses him. His warm hand cupping his cheek.

Billy clenches around Steve’s perfect cock when the tight knot of pleasure deep in his belly is finally broken open and he’s coming right into Steve’s hand. He falls apart with an unabashed groan as Steve fucks him through his orgasm, thrusting quick and hard.

Billy hears Steve grunting softly and knows he’s close to his own release. He bites his lip at the feeling of being overstimulated, which he loves, and is too sated to do more than let Steve use his body. He wraps his legs loosely around Steve’s hips and arches his back a little, sighing, eyes shut in bliss.

“Feels so good like this,” he slurs. “Want you to come inside me. Please, I want to feel it.”

Steve comes with a low, drawn-out groan, filling Billy with his release. His hips spasm in aftershocks of pleasure before slowing, then stilling all together. Their mouths meet blindly, hungry for each other’s taste. They kiss until Steve softens inside of him.

He sits up, smiling down at Billy all dopey and lovestruck.

He pats Billy’s thigh. “Good?” he asks him, still out of breath.

Billy scoffs. “Yeah,” he grins lazily. “Real good, baby.”

Still grinning, Steve looks at where their bodies are connected. Then, he looks Billy in the eye and brings his fingers — the ones that are painted with Billy’s come — to his mouth. Steve doesn’t hesitate before wrapping his lips around his own fingers and licking Billy’s taste off of them.

When he’s done, Billy pushes at Steve’s shoulders until his soft cock slips out of him. Billy bites his lip, boneless, as Steve looks between Billy’s spread thighs and at his own come slowly dripping out of him. Billy’s face is on fire, but he makes sure his boyfriend watches as he leans on his side and reaches back to press two fingers into his slick hole. He grunts, biting his lip at the sensation as he thrusts his fingers inside himself shallowly. He slips his fingers out, which are now coated in Steve’s come, and brings them to his lips. He licks at his fingers happily, eyes locked with a dumbstruck, glowing Steve, who watches in awe as his boyfriend eats his come.

Billy releases his fingers from his mouth with a wet  _ pop. _ The look on Steve’s face makes him shiver.

“Gonna clean you up,” Steve tells him in a low voice. 

Steve settles on his stomach, looking oh so comfortable between Billy’s legs, and with absolutely no reservations he flattens his tongue over Billy’s slick hole. He immediately has tears springing to his eyes because it’s so good, too much. Not enough. After being fucked by Steve, Billy can’t stand being teased like this; he needs Steve’s tongue inside of him. He clenches helplessly and whines, turning his face into the pillow. But Steve moves  _ away  _ from where Billy needs him.

Steve is trailing searing kisses over Billy’s inner thighs, nipping gently at the soft flesh there every now and then. Really enjoying himself. Billy’s gonna get hard again, he knows it, he knows Steve knows.

_ “Fuck,” _ he curses sharply when Steve’s face hovers over his spent cock, his warm breath over Billy’s skin making him shiver. “Please Steve,  _ ugh,  _ fuck…”

Steve runs his hands over Billy’s hips, his touch reverent and grounding. And then he clears his throat. “Billy, do you, like, believe that some people are just meant to be together?”

That’s the thing about Steve: he likes to chat, especially, it seems, when he’s got Billy all strung out and aching for him. Billy lifts his head and looks down at him.

He sucks in a breath at the sight of Steve’s ruffled hair and his open, pink lips. “You mean like soulmates?”

Steve leans his head against Billy’s thigh, uncharacteristically shy all of a sudden. “Yeah,” he mumbles against Billy’s skin. “Like soulmates.”

Billy looks at him, completely dumbfounded. How the  _ hell _ did he get so lucky?

Because it’s  _ them, _ Billy chooses to tease Steve just a little bit. “Hm. I dunno,” he pretends to consider it. “Maybe I believe in true love and all that, but soulmates? Seems a little whimsical…”

Steve glares at him knowingly. Billy has to bite back a laugh at his grumpy face.

Steve challenges him. “So you don’t think two people can be made for each other? That in some cases it’s just meant to be or whatever?”

Billy pouts. He’s so overwhelmed with love for Steve that he can feel his joke crumble and he can’t even answer him.

When Billy doesn’t speak, Steve asks, “Then how come I fit so well right here?” Finds his hand on the bed and holds it. He crawls up Billy’s body. “And here?” Kisses his lips. “And right here…” Steve settles between his spread legs again, “...and here?” He drags a finger over his still-slick hole, making Billy gasp and shudder.

Billy forces out a quip. “Luck. Pure coincidence,” Billy smirks as best he can.

“Fuck your luck,” Steve growls, turning him over. Kisses the back of his neck and  _ bites _ his shoulder.

Then, Steve’s capable hands are spreading Billy’s asscheeks.

Billy inhales sharply and groans, unashamed.

Steve presses his thumb to Billy’s wet hole, making him jolt and shiver. He mewls as his body responds, fluttering and clenching around the tip of Steve’s finger as it merely circles his entrance.

Steve manhandles him so he’s got his chest pressed to the bed, his hips lifted up for Steve. Billy feels so  _ exposed  _ like this, his face smushed into Steve fuckin’ Harrington’s pillow, ass in the air. Steve makes him feel like he’s some insatiably horny 16-year-old again, desperate and eager.

“Oh,  _ baby,” _ Steve murmurs behind him and then his tongue is inside Billy, slick and hot and too much, not enough, more more  _ more. _

Billy’s cock aches as his hips automatically grind back into Steve’s face, whimpering. His face is burning up.

Steve’s tongue slides against his walls, warm and skilled. He tenses it, fucking his tongue into Billy for a second, making him wail gorgeously. Then Steve’s tongue goes lax and moves around lazily inside of him before he pulls out. Taking his damn sweet time to do so.

Billy is panting, cheeks flushed red when Steve helps him lie on his back. Steve leans down, connecting their lips and Billy licks keenly into his mouth. He lets Steve feed him his come, swallowing the taste as he trembles.

_ “Steve,”  _ he whines, broken, not really sure what he means to convey.

Steve understands him somehow. He slides his middle finger into Billy’s quivering hole, punching the air out of his body. He breathes in a lungful and tilts his head when Steve kisses his neck. He relaxes around Steve’s intrusion, grinding his hips slowly against Steve’s hand.

“Gonna find exactly where that spot is inside you, so I can fuck you right there every time. Sound good?”

Steve’s words send a spike of pleasure through Billy, lighting him up. He nods. “Good,” he whispers hoarsely.

Steve’s finger shifts around and it doesn’t take long for him to nudge at his prostate which makes Billy’s legs spasm as he gasps.

Billy takes his wrist and, guiding his hand around, feels Steve’s finger go limp inside of him as he lets Billy shift until he hits his prostate again. He holds Steve’s wrist still, whimpering.

Steve’s astonished eyes meet his. “Right here?” Steve asks. He’s flushed all down his neck to his chest.

Billy can’t speak so he nods. Nice and gentle, Steve presses his finger against the spot and Billy fucking  _ squeals,  _ toes curling at the niggling feeling he gets deep inside of him. He’s hard again, he’s distantly aware of that as he turns his head to the side, tears stinging his eyes.

“You’re incredible,” Steve tells him and latches his mouth onto Billy’s nipple, suckling sweetly as he pets at Billy’s velvet insides. He teases at Billy’s prostate with the tip of his finger, dragging it in circles. Billy comes again, squeezing his eyes shut. Steve stills his movement, letting Billy’s hole flutter around his finger. He licks Billy’s nipple and kisses his pec, sliding his finger out of Billy and wiping it on the sheets.

When Billy feels less like jelly and more like a full person again, he opens his arms for Steve to fall into. Steve, who is wearing one of his signature dazzling smiles. He’s unreal, Billy thinks.

Feeling boneless and fucked-out, they cuddle up in bed, not caring about the mess.

“I love you so much,” Billy breathes against Steve’s shoulder, his arms wrapped snugly around him. Steve hums on top of him, nuzzling closer into Billy’s embrace even though they’re as close as they can possibly be.

Steve lets out a long, content sigh. “I love you, too, knucklehead.”

Billy giggles, exhausted. He’s out like a light.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed this gross sex. it's what these two deserve!  
> comments are always appreciated! happy harringrove week of love <3


End file.
